


Ben and David

by Ellie226



Series: The Community [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Age Play, Daddy Kink, Discipline, Domestic Violence, Emotional Abuse, F/F, F/M, Infantilism, M/M, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 07:46:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie226/pseuds/Ellie226
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben and David have been together for a long time, and Ben thinks that this is the life he's supposed to be leading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ben and David

**Author's Note:**

> The problems that started in the last story continue in this one. Warnings for domestic violence/abuse.

As soon as Daddy finished spanking me, he jerked my jeans back on. Keeping his hand wrapped tightly around my upper arm, he practically dragged me over to Lucy’s mama.

“Apologize,” Daddy ordered, still sounding angry.

I managed to whisper, “‘m sorry.” I hadn’t meant to be bad, but it seemed like I couldn’t help myself. That new girl was looking so nervous, and I’d just wanted her to forget whatever was bothering her and play.

“We’re going home,” Daddy announced, nodding shortly at Lucy’s mama before he made his way toward the door. 

I was nervous that the spanking at Lucy’s house was just the prelude to a bigger punishment, and I forced myself to follow along silently. It wasn’t like I had many other options. It was either allowing myself to be dragged or arguing as I was dragged.

My heart sank as Daddy pulled my jeans down and off, and I bit my lip to keep myself from begging. Daddy didn’t like that; he said that if I’d earned a punishment, he didn’t want to hear any whining after the fact. I reminded myself of how bad I’d been as Daddy stripped me naked. I deserved a big punishment; Daddy was probably embarrassed by me.

Luckily, rather than being tossed back over his knee, Daddy frog marched me over to the time out corner, pushing me into it.

“You stay in time out until you know how to behave in public,” he stated, clearly still furious.

I knew what he expected, and I forced myself to stand up tall, hands on my head, nose practically touching the painted walls. It still felt weird to stand here without anything to cover my bottom, but I knew better than to whine about it.

Standing still, I waited. It was easier when Daddy just gave me a specific amount of time. Telling me to stay there until I knew how to behave was too complicated. I knew he’d want answers to questions, and I wasn’t going to know them.

Luckily, today, it had apparently just been a saying. After what seemed like an interminable period of silent stillness, Daddy called me over. I forced myself to remain standing well upright, not slouching, as I walked toward him, still nude.

Sitting on the couch, Daddy took both of my hands and forced me to sit on the coffee table across from him. Staring sternly at me, he waited for a moment before beginning.

“I cannot believe how much you embarrassed me today,” he lectured, forcing eye contact. “What do you think all of those other grown ups thought? They saw a badly behaved little boy who doesn’t even know how to act in someone else’s house.”

I wanted to cry at that. I wanted to cry at all of it. The coffee table was hard, and Daddy was still mad, and so was everyone else. 

“I swear, Benjamin,” Daddy continued, “I try and I try, but you just don’t listen, and you don’t learn. I’m at the end of my patience, little boy, and you’re about to be very unhappy if you don’t straighten up.”

“Yes sir,” I said quietly, not sure of what else I could say. I’d apologized, and I’d taken my punishment, but Daddy was still angry, and I just didn’t know how to be good.

“Well, I know one little boy who is just going to march himself up to his bed and stay there the rest of the day,” Daddy ordered, using his hold on my hands to pull me to my feet and aim a sharp slap at my already sore backside.

I wanted to argue. We’d had breakfast before going to playgroup, but we’d left before lunch, and I was hungry. Another smack had me making my way toward the nursery. He’d said my bed, and that meant I was banished for the night.

After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I pulled on the old fashioned nightshirt that he liked for me to wear. Then, curling up on my side in the crib, I stared. It was still light out, and I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep.

Going over everything that had happened, I began to feel guilty again, until I finally started to cry. At first a little, then quite a bit, my tears wouldn’t stop. Finally, I fell asleep, cheeks still salty and sticky. Tomorrow would be better.

When I woke up, I needed to pee. Sitting up in the crib, I noticed that the bars were up now. I hadn’t done it, so Daddy must have checked on me while I was sleeping. He’d tucked Theodore in beside me, so he must not be too mad.

I didn’t want to start making noise. Daddy would come and get me when it was time to get up. But, I had to go to the bathroom, so I called quietly.

“Daddy?”

When Daddy showed up in the doorway, I smiled at him, explaining, “I needa go potty, please.”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he lectured, even as he let the side of the crib down and helped me out. I leaned into him for a minute, glad that he wasn’t too mad, but then he gave me a tap, “Go on, Benjamin. I put you to bed; that doesn’t mean you get cuddles.”

“Yes sir,” I said quietly, rushing to the bathroom and then back to the nursery. I hated sleeping in there, but that’s what happened when I was bad. Climbing back into my crib, I looked up at Daddy and told him, “I am sorry that I was bad earlier, Daddy. I didn’t mean it. I just wanted Frankie to play. She looked sad. I’ll be better next time. Promise.”

Daddy helped me squirm down, covering me and Theodore with the blankets before he sat on the edge of the crib. Sighing, he explained, “I hear a lot about next time, and I know you mean it. But I want to see good behavior, Benjamin, not hear promises about how things are going to improve.”

“Yes sir.”

Daddy sighed again, saying, “I’m going to get you some water, and then I expect you to do some quiet thinking.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” I mumbled, curling onto my side and watching as he left the room. He returned a moment later with water, which I took with another, “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome,” he told me, leaning over to kiss my forehead. “Now, I want quiet from you, little boy. You can call for me if you need the potty, but that’s it.”

I nodded, resolving to do as he said. Daddy was right. I always promised to do better, but I needed to show him how much I meant it. That was why, even when my tummy got grumbly, I didn’t complain or make too much noise. I slowly drank down my water, thinking about how much better tomorrow was going to be, and I fell asleep again.

It was a long night, but it was always is in the nursery. It’s spooky in there; there are too many shadows because of the streetlights outside my window, and Daddy isn’t there. It seemed to be forever until Daddy came to let me out again, and I was glad to see him.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked me, as he led me downstairs and to the kitchen.

I shrugged, leaning into him. I wished I was little enough for him to carry, but Daddy said I’d make him hurt his back.

“Okay,” I told him. “I like it better in the big bed.”

“The big bed is for good little boys,” he reminded me, as he began to put together breakfast.

I sat down in my usual spot, watching him and drinking the cup of milk that he gave me. Just as we were finishing up, Daddy’s phone rang, and my heart sank as I listened to the conversation.

It ended, like most conversations on the phone, with, “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Like usual, it was Daddy’s stinky boss, and now I didn’t get to spend any time with him. Again. And I knew that yesterday, it had been my fault, but how was I supposed to show him how sorry I was if he wasn’t even here?

Daddy didn’t bother to talk to me when he hung up, simply pressing another number on the phone. The center was closed for the weekend, but Daddy didn’t like me going there anyway. He had to call a few other parents before he found someone who could take me, and I began whining as soon as he got off the phone.

“I don’t want to go to Em’ly’s house,” I complained, allowing myself to pout, even though I knew how much Daddy hated it.

Off the stool, Daddy gave me a sharp swat, nodding toward the stairs, “And I don’t want to hear any whining. Go get dressed and brush your teeth. We’re leaving in five minutes.”

“Not fair,” I moaned, starting toward the stairs before Daddy snapped at me.

“Back,” he ordered, pointing at the floor in front of him.

Cringing, I skulked my way back. I knew better, and I didn’t understand why I was having so much trouble behaving lately. Staring at my feet, I nodded my way through the lecture, not yelping at the accompanying swats and shakes that Daddy dished out. When he was done, I made my way up the stairs without arguing anymore. I dressed as quickly as I could before returning back to the kitchen.

“You are going to go to Mr. Matt’s house, and you’re going to behave yourself,” Daddy ordered, checking me over quickly before he took my hand and started out the front door. “And I better not be hearing any sass from you. Understood?”

I nodded quickly, and Daddy finished, “Just because Emily acts up is no reason that you should be doing it. I’m not kidding, little boy. We’ll be using a switch if I hear you were being lippy with Mr. Matt, or I have problems with you later.”

“Yes sir,” I replied unhappily. I had wanted cuddles and maybe some grown up time with Daddy. And maybe I didn’t deserve it, but I didn’t want to go to Mr. Matt’s house and see him being all sweet with Em’ly when she wasn’t even good some of the time. It wasn’t fair. She was always being bad, and he just laughed and hugged her.

Ringing the doorbell, Daddy wasted no time in handing me over, telling Mr. Matt, “And I warned him to behave. If he’s a brat, you can go ahead and punish him however you see fit. Benjamin, you know what’ll happen if I get a bad report.”

“Yes sir,” I mumbled, allowing myself a quick peek at Emily. She had come to the door with her Daddy, and she was staring.

“We’ll be fine,” Mr. Matt told Daddy, hugging me to his side. “I’m sure Ben won’t be any trouble. Em and I were just going to hang out here and play, and it’ll be a lot more fun with a friend.”

“Uh huh,” Emily grinned at my Daddy. “We’re gon’ go to the park! Daddy said! And maybe we’ll make muffins.”

That sounded like fun, and I allowed myself to relax a little bit. We didn’t bake; Daddy said he didn’t want me getting fat, so it was only healthy food at our house.

Daddy nodded, telling me, “Don’t make yourself sick. I’ll be back in a bit,” before he started back toward our house and Mr. Matt shut the door.

Guiding me into the kitchen, Mr. Matt explained, “We were just finishing up our breakfast. Would you like something to eat?”

“We have pancakes,” Emily informed me, shoving a huge, syrupy bite into her mouth and chewing obnoxiously. “Daddy an’ me made ‘em.”

“Mouth shut please,” Matt corrected, going to the stove. “Sweetheart? Would you like some? Daddy said you were finishing up your breakfast.”

I wanted pancakes, but I didn’t want to make him make any more, so I shook my head. “No thank you,” I added, remembering to use my nice manners.

“How about some juice then?” he offered.

I accepted that, slowly sipping my orange juice as I listened to them talk quietly. Occasionally, Mr. Matt would ask a question, and I would answer, but mostly I just listened.

“Alright,” he announced, standing up. “I still need to take a shower. Can I trust you two to play nicely down here?”

“Yes sir,” I promised fervently. I was going to behave. I was. 

Emily didn’t give me time to say anything else, grabbing my hand and dragging me, “Let’s go to the playroom. Do you like LEGOS?”

We settled on the floor. I built as I listened to Em chatter, occasionally nodding or making a small noise of agreement. 

After a while, she fell silent, and we played quietly until she said, “Ben? What did your Daddy mean?”

“When?”

“When he said that you knew what would happen if you had naughty behavior?” she asked.

I blushed, embarrassed, before I answered quietly, “If’n ‘m bad, then I’ll get in trouble. You know.”

Emily nodded at that, a troubled expression on her face, “But if you’ve got bad behavior at my house, and my Daddy gives you time out or a smack, are you gonna get it at home too?”

“Course,” I told her, making eye contact. “That’s what happens. If’n you ‘barrass your grown up by bein’ bad, then you gotta get punished at home too. Otherwise, how’re you gonna learn to be good?”

“Ben, it’s not ‘posed to be like that,” Emily told me. “Your daddy is ‘posed to take care of you. Sometimes your behavior is bad, but it’s not all ‘posed to be gettin’ smacked.”

“It isn’t,” I defended my daddy. “I get cuddles when I’m good, s’long as Daddy’s not too busy, or he doesn’t want me hanging all over him.” I liked the cuddles, and I was hopeful that if I was really good for Mr. Matt, that Daddy would be in a cuddles mood when we got back to our house.

Emily didn’t say anything to that, and I tried to focus on building. I didn’t want to have this conversation. Luckily, Mr. Matt came back then, joining us on the floor and pulling Emily into his lap.

“Daddy,” she complained, squirming down, “‘m buildin’.”

“My apologies, Miss Emily,” he grinned at me. “How’re you doing, Ben?”

“Fine thank you.” I kept my head down, trying to not watch Emily being bad. Didn’t her daddy know he was supposed to give her a smack for that? If he wanted cuddles, then that’s what they were supposed to do, and being whiny was bad too.

Matt’s POV

When I came down from my shower, the kids were playing in silence, and Ben looked deeply uncomfortable. I shot Emily a quick look. We’d talked about this before Ben got here.

“But maybe he wants to talk about it,” she’d protested, as she brushed her hair.

“And maybe he doesn’t,” I responded. “Leave him be, Em. It’s going to be hard enough seeing us after yesterday. Don’t make it any harder on him.”

“Don’t like Mr. David,” she grumped, leaning back to fix her hair into a messy ponytail. “He’s a meany, Daddy.”

I nodded. It was not our first go around with this conversation, and I agreed with Emily. She knew that. But, it didn’t help anyone, least of all Ben, to harangue either Ben or David. 

“We’re coming up with a solution,” I promised, pulling her to her feet and hugging her tightly. “Aunt Sarah and I were chatting about it yesterday. You just worry about making Ben feel welcome.”

“Promise we aren’t going to leave him to nasty Mr. David,” she asked, peeking up at me.

“Don’t name call,” I corrected automatically. When I saw her make a face, I continued, “Do you want Ben to not be allowed to come over? Because that’s what’ll happen if Mr. David thinks that you’re a bad influence.”

“No sirrrrrr.”

“Be my good girl?”

She’d nodded, and the conversation had been finished. It apparently hadn’t made a difference in Em’s mind though, since she’d taken advantage of my shower to try to get Ben to talk. 

I knew my wife had the best of intentions. She just wanted to help Ben, and I appreciated that. However, making him uncomfortable wasn’t going to help him, and I gave her a look.

“Are we still going to the park?” she asked, studiously avoiding eye contact.

Smiling at Ben, I said, “Manners, sweetheart.”

She looked up then, smiling at Ben, “Do you want to go to the park?”

He shrugged, not looking at either of us, and I told him, “Sorry, kiddo, but we don’t speak shrug here. I need you to use your words.”

The light voice that usually reminded my wife without upsetting her made Ben tense, apologizing quickly, “‘m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Ben,” I soothed, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder. “Do you want to go to the park, or should we stay here and play?”

“Whatever Em’ly wants is fine,” he mumbled, unconsciously leaning into my touch.

“Em?”

She had been watching Ben, and she said, “I think here, Daddy? Maybe we could bake muffins, then watch a movie on the couch please?”

“How does that sound?” I asked Ben, making sure that I kept my voice soft. He was like a little, frightened rabbit, and I didn’t want to spook him.

“Okay,” he said quietly, not looking at me. “‘m not ‘posed to have too many sweets though. Daddy said.”

“That’s probably a good rule,” I commented, standing up and encouraging the two of them to make their way to the kitchen. “Luckily, our muffins won’t be too sugary. Do you like peanut butter and jelly?”

“Yes sir.”

Em was at the sink, scrubbing her hands, “Do you like strawberry? Or grape? Or raspberry? Or, we have marmalade, but I think it’s gross. Daddy likes it.”

“I don’t care,” he shrugged again, waiting patiently to wash his hands.

“Em?” I asked, “Could you run over to Aunt Charlotte’s and see if she has an egg? We’ve only got one, and I figured we’d make a double batch so that Ben could take some home.”

“My hands are washed already,” she grumbled, even as she made her way toward the front door.

I ignored it. Em was a complainer; it was part of who she was. I saw Ben’s face though, and I could tell it bothered him. Once the door shut behind her, I gently took his hand and led him to the counter. Placing my hands under his arms, I boosted him up so we could talk.

“Alright, sweetheart, we need to have a chat,” I explained. He tensed immediately, and I had to force myself to continue. “Ben, I don’t know what the rules are at your house, but when I ask a question here, I want an answer. You can just tell me what you want; that’s okay. I’m not being tricky.”

“I don’t know what I want though,” he whispered, sounding close to tears.

“That’s fine,” I soothed, rubbing his back firmly. “I understand that sometimes it’s hard to make a choice, but I want you to know that you’re not going to get into any trouble for answering me. Understand?”

He nodded, but I could tell that he was still anxious, and so I told him, “We only have a couple of rules at this house. Do you want to hear them?”

“Yes sir.”

“Well, first, you don’t have to call me sir. You can just call me Matt.” 

Ben shook his head at that, “‘m not ‘llowed to call grown ups by their first names. Daddy says.”

I nodded at that, and said, “Alright, well then it can be Mr. Matt. That’s fine. Ready for the rules?” He nodded, and I listed, “We don’t hurt ourselves or anybody else, we don’t lie, and Em needs to listen when I ask her to do something. So if I tell you that it’s time to wash your hands or put away the toys, then I expect you to listen to me. But you’re allowed to ask questions, and you’re allowed to tell me if something’s wrong. Okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes si-Mr. Matt,” he corrected himself.

“Good boy,” I praised. I took his arm, planning to help him down, but then he flinched and let out a small yelp. I immediately let go. “Ben? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he insisted, shrinking away. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, sweetheart. Do you have an owie? I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Shouldn’t have whined. Sorry.”

He was staring at the floor, and I could see tears starting down his cheeks. I didn’t want to take advantage of him, but I needed to see.

“Ben, I need you to pull up your shirt sleeve, please,” I instructed, keeping my voice firm.

He was chewing on his lip, but he slowly obeyed, trying to pull the long sleeve up so I could see his upper arm. He couldn’t get it up, and I sighed, reaching forward. He pulled away.

“Sweetheart, you’re not in any trouble. Can I help you pull your shirt off? I just want to take a look at the owie on your arm.”

He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pull away when I tugged the shirt over his head, involuntarily gasping as I saw the bruises on his upper arms. 

He had matching rings of bruising, on both arms. I knew what it was, but I gently touched, verifying for myself. 

The bruises almost exactly matched my hands. David was smaller than I was, so the marks were smaller, but I knew what they were made by. And it wasn’t just his arms. There were bruises on his torso as well, along with deep purple bruises on the back of his neck.

“What happened?” I asked, trying to push down the rage I was feeling.

He shrugged, “I was bad. I didn’t listen good.”

“Honey, that’s not okay,” I murmured. “Do you have more owies anywhere?”

He shook his head no, and I forced myself to smile, “Let’s get your shirt back on, and then I think that we need to call Miss Sarah over to take a look. And we should probably have Aunt Charlotte too.”

“Nooo,” he whimpered.

I couldn’t listen to him. I needed Sarah to come and take pictures of the injuries, and I needed to talk to Charlotte about what we needed to do. She had been responsible for drafting the contracts we all signed, and I knew there was something in there about domestic violence. I wasn’t sure what the next step was, but I knew for damn sure that I wasn’t letting Ben go home tonight.

Luckily, Em walked through the door then, carrying an egg. Lucy was trailing behind her, another egg in her hands, chattering excitedly.

“Daddy? Aunt Charlotte sent two eggs an’ a helper. Can Lucy help make muffins for their house too?”

“Not right now, baby. Luce, I need you to run and get your mama for me, and Emily, you go and get Aunt Sarah please,” I ordered, smiling at Ben and trying to help him get his shirt on.

Thankfully, Emily turned right back around and started toward the door without an argument, and I managed to get Ben dressed again, then helped him down from the counter.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” I promised, hoisting him up onto my hip and starting toward the couch. He was even lighter than I’d thought he’d be, although dealing with the length of his legs as compared to Em’s was a little tricky. “We’re just going to sit on the couch and have a cuddle while we wait for Aunt Charlotte and Miss Sarah.”

He shook his head, “I’m okay.”

“We’re fine,” I agreed, settling us onto the couch and keeping him pulled up against me. “We’re just fine, and you’re being such a good boy for me.”

It was the wrong thing to say, and he dissolved into hysterical tears. After a moment of trying to squirm away, he finally allowed himself to bury his face against me and sob while I helplessly stroked his back and tried to soothe him.

Ben’s POV

This was all wrong. It was really, really wrong. Daddy was going to be so mad at me. Mr. Matt was too nice; Daddy said it all the time. Mr. Matt was prob’ly the nicest grown up ever, but Aunt Charlotte and Miss Sarah would understand why Daddy had to punish me, and then everyone would know how bad I was. 

I allowed myself to sob out my misery against Mr. Matt. I didn’t want all the grown ups to know that I was such a bad boy. I liked them; they were nice to me. And I knew it was a little bit tricky to keep secrets, but I liked them being nice, so I figured it was okay that they not know how bad I was for Daddy.

“Ben Ben Ben,” Mr. Matt crooned. “It’s going to be alright, sweetheart. We’re going to figure out a way to fix everything; I promise.”

“I try to be good,” I cried. “I do! I just gotta be good, but I keep forgetting.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Mr. Matt said, sounding so disappointed.

Sobbing harder, I choked out, “I’ll do better. I promised Daddy. You don’t gotta tell nobody.”

Mr. Matt hugged me then, pulling me right into his lap and rocking a little, “You are always good,” he murmured, kissing the top of my head. “Did you know that? Sometimes, little boys and girls forget to have good behavior, but that doesn’t make them bad. And I know that you’re trying, sweetheart. Sometimes, you just forget, and that’s okay. You’re not in any trouble.”

“Daddy’s going to be mad.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Mr. Matt told me, sounding very grim.

Before we could talk anymore, the door opened, and Emily led Ms. Sarah in. I hid my face, not wanting to see either of them, although I couldn’t do anything about hearing them.

“Em, I want you to go and play in the playroom for a bit, baby,” Mr. Matt told her. I didn’t hear a response, but after a minute, Mr. Matt started talking to Ms. Sarah. “We’ve got a little problem; did Em fill you in?”

“Not really,” I heard her say. The couch dipped a bit when she sat down beside us, trying to catch my eye. “Hey there, Ben. Did you get hurt?”

I wouldn’t answer. I knew I should because it was rude to ignore grown ups, but I also had a bad feeling that Daddy wouldn’t like everyone knowing about how bad I was, so I just kept quiet.

“He’s got bruises on his arms, Sarah. They’re ugly. And there’s another on the back of his neck. I wanted you to take a look, and I figured we needed to photograph them.”

I felt Ms. Sarah’s hand on my arm, her touch feather-light. “Ben, did you hear Mr. Matt just now?” she asked quietly. I nodded a little, and she continued, “Is it alright if I take a look at your boo boos?”

I didn’t know what to do, and I wanted Daddy to be here. He would know what to say so that they would understand; it was getting all mixed up when I tried to explain it to people, and I was confused.

Mr. Matt, made me sit up then, making me look at him. His eyes were sad, but he smiled when he said, “We’re going to let Ms. Sarah take a look at you, kiddo. Do you want to go upstairs to the nursery, so we have privacy, or do you want to do it right here?”

I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything. I felt dumb, and Mr. Matt wanted me to answer, and I wasn’t supposed to shrug. Before I could work myself up, Aunt Charlotte came through the door with Lucy.

“Em’s in the playroom, Lucy. I bet she’d like someone to play with,” Sarah told Lucy, not moving from her spot. She waited until Lucy was gone again before telling Aunt Charlotte, “He’s got bruises, and Matt thought we should photograph them.”

They were talking, but Mr. Matt started speaking quietly to me, and I focused on that. “We’re going to go up to the nursery, sweetheart. That way, you have a little bit of privacy. I think you’re having some trouble making decisions right now. Can you nod if it’s okay for us to go upstairs?”

Slowly, I nodded, and Mr. Matt stood up, easily shifting me to his hip. He was a lot stronger than Daddy, and I let myself take a moment to just enjoy the feeling of being carried. This must be how Em’ly got to feel all the time.

“We’re going to go upstairs,” he announced. “You two can come up once you’re ready, but Ben and I will be in the nursery.”

He carried me all the way up to the nursery, settling down in a comfy rocking chair that was right by a large window, and cradling me. Rocking slowly, he talked to me.

“Have you ever been upstairs in our house?” 

I didn’t answer, so he continued, “This is the nursery; I know you have one like it too.”

“All the houses have ‘em. It’s for when you’re bad,” I mumbled.

“No, sweetheart,” Mr. Matt corrected. “Nurseries aren’t for when you’re bad. They’re just little bedrooms. We don’t use ours. We didn’t even decorate it really.”

“Where does Em’ly sleep when she’s bad?” I asked, curious. 

“Em’s not bad. Sometimes, she makes bad choices, but we sleep in the big bed in our room. Emily likes cuddles at night, even if she’s in trouble. Do you like cuddling?”

I nodded shyly, “Sometimes, if’n ‘m good and Daddy’s not busy, we cuddle on the couch.”

We didn’t get a chance to talk anymore before Ms. Sarah and Aunt Charlotte came in, both of them quiet and moving slowly. 

Ms. Sarah knelt beside the rocker, talking to me quietly, “Ben, I need to get some photos of those bruises.”

I didn’t say anything, and I heard Aunt Charlotte, “Matt, I need to talk with you. Why don’t we step out while Sarah checks him over?”

I maybe didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing, but I knew that Mr. Matt wasn’t going anywhere. Scrambling frantically, I hauled myself up enough to wrap my arms around his neck, “Stay,” I whimpered frantically. “Please? I’ll be good for Ms. Sarah.”

Matt’s POV

His arms were so tight that they felt a bit claustrophobic, but I hugged him back, promising, “I’m not going anywhere, Ben. If you want me to stay, then I’ll stay.”

“It’s alright, lovey,” Charlotte told him, reaching out to rub his back. “I just thought you might like a little privacy.”

“Mr. Matt stay,” he begged.

“Of course, sweetheart,” I murmured, thinking of all the ways I wanted to hurt David. My thoughts were interrupted by Sarah clearing her throat.

“Matt, I need Ben to take off his shirt. Could you help with that?”

I nodded, helping Ben unwind his arms from around my neck before I began pulling his shirt up and over his head. As soon as he was disentangled, he wrapped his arms back around my neck, burying his face in my shoulder. 

“Ben, Ms. Sarah needs to look at your bruises. Can she see your left arm?” I asked softly, smiling and rubbing his back when he held out the requested arm. “Good boy,” I praised. “You are such a good listener.”

Slowly, bit by bit, we got through Sarah looking at each of the injuries. Once she’d made sure that it was just bruises, she said, “Ben, I need to take some pictures, but I need you to stand up by yourself so I can do that. We’ll be super quick.”

He shook his head, letting out a little whine, and resumed rocking as I murmured to him, “My good boy. We’re just going to get some photos, and then I’ll cuddle with you all you want, sweetheart. You’ve been so brave for us so far.”

Sniffling, Ben slowly stood up, moving as directed so that Sarah could get pictures of the injuries. As promised, she worked as quickly as possible, letting him curl back up in the rocker once she was done. 

“We’ll put a little arnica on here, then we’ll be all good to go,” she narrated, pulling a tube from her bag and gently smoothing it into his skin. “Ben, I’m going to give this to you,” she said, putting the tube in one of his hands. “You need to use it.”

“Yes’m,” he mumbled, allowing me to help him get dressed again.

“Such a brave little boy,” I praised, smiling at him. “I need to have a chat with Aunt Charlotte, sweetheart. We need to talk about how we’re going to fix this problem with your Daddy.”

“Don’t tell Daddy!”

“Can you sit in here for a minute so we can talk? Or maybe go down to the playroom to play with Em and Lucy?” I suggested.

“I-” he looked ready to start crying again, and I smiled reassuringly.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.”

“I can wait here?” he whispered, asking, “But you come back quick?”

“Absolutely,” I promised, standing up and carrying him to the crib. I settled him down in it, grabbing one of the blankets that Emily had stashed on a nearby shelf and settling it over him. 

“We’re just going to be in the hallway; I want you to yell if you need me. You just lay here and rest for a minute.”

He nodded, and Sarah, Charlotte, and I went out into the hallway. Closing the door, I looked at both of them, waiting.

“Has he said that David did it?” Charlotte asked.

“It’s obvious what happened.”

Charlotte shook her head, “I need him to sign an affidavit, which means he needs to say, clearly, that this was the result of David abusing him.”

“He can’t do that, Charlotte,” I objected. “Did you see him in there? He’s terrified of David.”

“Well, I can’t do anything then,” she snapped, clearly frustrated.

I nodded, furious at the situation, telling her, “He’s not going back there, and you can just tell David that. He’s not welcome at my home, or anywhere around Emily or that little boy. Ben can just stay here until we figure something out.”

“Matt, I know you’re mad, but you can’t just kidnap his-”

“His what, Sarah? His punching bag? Do you know what I’ve been hearing all day? He thinks this is all his fault; he thinks it’s normal, and that if he’d just behave better, that it would stop. It’s a clear cut case of domestic violence. What’s worse is that we all let it happen.”

“I understand that,” Charlotte argued, “but there are rules. If Ben is willing to tell me what happened, and then sign a paper about it, I can start the process of evicting him. As long as Ben won’t say it though, I can’t do a damn thing.”

Ben’s POV

There were angry voices in the hallway, and I was surprised to hear Mr. Matt. I didn’t know he had an angry voice. I covered my head, wishing that Ms. Sarah and Aunt Charlotte would leave now. I wanted to go back to just cuddling.

I heard the door open, and someone walking toward me. I couldn’t help but cringe when the mattress dipped, but then I felt someone’s hand gently resting on my hip.

“Ben? Will you come out for a minute?” Mr. Matt asked.

Pushing the blanket down, I peeked up at him. He looked angry, but he smiled, saying, “There you are. Why’re you hiding?”

“People are mad,” I mumbled, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. 

He nodded, “People are mad,” he agreed. “We don’t like what happened. It’s not okay for someone to hurt you like that. But absolutely nobody is mad at you. You are being a very brave and good little boy for me today. Daddy messed up; not you, sweetheart.”

“But I was bad,” I defended Daddy. “I was! ‘m gon’ try harder now though.”

“It doesn’t matter what you did,” Mr. Matt patiently explained. 

“Yes it do! Don’t you hit Em when she’s bad? That’s what daddies do; if’n you don’t hurt her, then she’s not gon’ learn how to be good.”

Mr. Matt reached for me, and I flinched backward. Instead of hitting or shaking me though, Mr. Matt, putting his hands in his lap.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I was just going to help you up. I thought maybe we should rock while we talked. Sometimes, it’s easier for Emily to talk that way.”

“Sorry.”

“What’re you sorry for?” he whispered, matching my volume.

“Not lettin’ you pick me up?” I asked. 

He shook his head, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I wasn’t thinking. Everything’s kind of new and scary here for you, and you didn’t know what I was going to do. I’ll try to remember to use my words to explain things from now on. And you don’t have to cuddle with me, or let me carry you, if you don’t want.”

That didn’t seem right. If’n he wanted to do something, then it was bad to not let him. Daddy said. I didn’t want to argue with him though because it seemed like a lot of the rules at my house weren’t the same here. I’d just have to remember to be careful so that I didn’t make Daddy mad later because I’d forgotten our rules.

Thoughtlessly, I reached for Mr. Matt, wanting cuddles. Before I could pull away and apologize, I found myself being carefully picked up and carried over to the rocker, where he sat back down and began to rock.

“Sweetheart, Aunt Charlotte needs you to tell her what happened,” Mr. Matt told me. 

I liked this, and I really didn’t want to have to talk. I hadn’t slept very well the night before, although I’d been in my crib for forever, and I wanted to curl up against Mr. Matt and nap. I felt safe there.

“Will you please do that?” he asked. “It’s really important that she know how you got those bruises.”

“Think ‘m bad,” I mumbled, shamefaced. Aunt Charlotte was nice; she gave me hugs, and there were always cookies at her house. And Lucy was nice to everyone. If’n they thought I was bad, then I wouldn’t be allowed to play there anymore.

“No,” he told me. “Nobody thinks you’re bad. We think that your daddy did something bad when he hurt you. It’s not okay to hurt people.”

“You hit Em’ly when she’s bad?” I checked. I knew Emily got spanked sometimes.

“I spank Emily when her behavior is bad,” he replied. “That’s not hitting. It’s only ever on her butt, and I don’t leave bruises.”

“Bruises make you think better,” I told him stubbornly.

“Maybe,” he said, “but that doesn’t make it okay. Miss Emily thinks just fine with a sore bottom, and I’m not going to start really hurting her. If I had to do that, then there would be something wrong with our rules.”

That seemed very mixed up, but he seemed so sure of himself. We rocked in silence for a little while before he asked again.

“Can you tell Aunt Charlotte what happened?”

“You want me to,” I said quietly, a statement of fact. I could tell that he did, and he was being really nice. “Daddy’ll be mad though.”

He nodded, “Maybe, but you don’t need to worry about Daddy being mad at you, sweetheart. I promise, I’m not going to let him hurt you.”

I tried to hide my amusement at that. Nobody was going to make Daddy change how he punished me; he told me that often enough. If the other grown ups let their families run wild, that was their business, but Daddy wasn’t going to put up with me being a rotten, little brat.

“What’s so funny?” Matt asked, smiling down at me.

Chortling, I said, “You can’t make Daddy not hit me, Mr. Matt. He’s my daddy; it’s his job to make me be good.”

“Well, he’s not doing a very good job at it then.”

I stopped laughing immediately. Mr. Matt was half right. I wasn’t good, despite Daddy’s best efforts, and I shouldn’t be sassing the grown ups.

“What’s wrong?”

“‘m not good,” I moaned miserably. “I know that.”

Matt’s POV

“You’re very good,” I corrected him. “I wasn’t-I meant Daddy wasn’t doing a good job taking care of you and being a daddy.”

He looked horrified that I would even dare say that, and I made a decision. Continuing to rock, I told him, “Sweetheart, I’m going to have Aunt Charlotte come in, and you’re going to tell her how you got those bruises. I can stay with you, or I can let you have privacy; that’s a choice. Telling isn’t a choice; you have to do that.”

Although Ben still looked upset, his muscles relaxed, and he nodded. I didn’t like forcing him to do this, but it seemed like he was torn between doing what I asked and doing what he thought David would want, and I was willing to ignore the questionable ethics of forcing him to do anything if it meant that I could keep him safe.

“Yes sir,” he said quietly, asking, “Nobody is mad?”

“I’m mad,” I told him honestly, “but I’m not mad at you, and nobody else is going to be either. Daddy made a bad choice, and we don’t like it. You’re a very good little boy, and nobody is upset with you at all. Okay?”

He nodded, somehow curling himself more tightly against me as he murmured, “Then I’m ready.”

“That’s my brave boy,” I praised, before calling, “Char?” I could hear the two of them going back and forth, for a minute, before Charlotte stuck her head in.

She smiled at Ben, waiting, and I told her, “He’s ready to talk about what happened.”

Charlotte came in fully then, turning to say, “Sarah? Can you go downstairs and let Lucy know that I’m busy. Just make sure they’re okay?”

She must have nodded because Charlotte shut the door then, coming over to us and settling on the window seat. Smiling at Ben, she asked, “Are you ready, cutie?”

The boy nodded, chewing on his lip and looking at me. I helped him sit up a bit more, and I was surprised when he leaned further, whispering in my ear, “What do I say?”

“Aunt Charlotte needs you to tell her how you got those owies,” I told him calmly.

“When I was bad.”

Charlotte interrupted before I could say anymore, telling me, “Matt, I need Ben to tell me, please. Ben, can you tell me when you got the one up here?” she gently touched one of his arms.

“Yes’erday, at your house.”

“How?”

Ben wouldn’t look at her, saying, “I hitted Frankie, and Daddy grabbed my arm and shaked me because hitting is bad. I didn’t mean to though; I was just trying to ‘stract her so she’d play with us and not be sad.”

“What about here?” 

Bit by bit, Charlotte got Ben to tell when he got the various bruises on his body, waiting for the end to ask about the back of his neck. None of them looked particularly good, but the livid mark on his neck was the worst of them.

Sighing, Ben told her, “I was bad in time out.”

I wanted to correct him again. I didn’t ever tell Em that she was being bad; she wasn’t. It may have been a stupid distinction, but I felt like it was important. Charlotte wanted me to be quiet though, so I didn’t say anything.

“How were you bad?”

Ben started twisting his hands together, explaining, “Time out is quiet and straight and your nose in the corner. I didn’t, and Daddy had to ‘mind me.”

Charlotte nodded, keeping her face neutral as she asked, “Can you tell me how he reminded you?”

“He grabbed my neck and pinched.”

“Did it hurt?” she asked.

Ben nodded, “That’s how you learn.”

“Did you tell Daddy it hurt?” Charlotte probed.

That got a furiously shaken head, and Ben told her, a hint of pride in his voice, “I don’t do that anymore. Mostly. If’n ‘m bad so Daddy’s gotta punish me, then he doesn’t wanna hear whining and complaining.”

Charlotte smiled at him, saying, “Ben, you have been a very good boy for me, and I really appreciate you answering my questions. Do you have any questions for me?”

“What’s going to happen?”

“I’m going to type up what you told me, and then you can read it before you sign it,” Charlotte explained quietly. “Then, when Daddy is all done at work, he’s going to need to meet with some of the grown ups to talk about it.”

“He’s going to be mad,” Ben insisted, eyes widening and breath quickening.

I hugged him tightly, reassuring, “He can feel however he wants; he is not going to hurt you again. Understand?”

“But how are you going to make him stop?”

Charlotte answered this time, explaining, “After we talk to Daddy, he’s going to have a choice. He can go and talk to someone like Mr. Matt, to help him so he learns how to handle his feelings better. He can leave our neighborhood and go live someplace else.”

“I don’t wanna move!”

“You don’t have to,” I soothed. “I really don’t want you to go home with your Daddy right now, sweetheart. I think that he needs some help before that’s safe. While we’re waiting for him to go and talk to a therapist, I thought you could stay with me and Em, if that’s okay with you.”

Ben’s POV

I liked Mr. Matt, but I didn’t want to stay here. Even if I didn’t like what happened when I was bad, Daddy was mine, and it didn’t matter how bad I was. He stayed.

Aunt Charlotte interrupted my thoughts, saying, “Ben, there are lots of places you can stay, for as long as you need. Lucy and I have space, Matt and Emily have space, and I’m guessing that Sarah and Michael would like it if you stayed there. And if you don’t want to stay with us, there’s a shelter in town for victims of domestic violence, or we’ll help you get wherever you want to go so you can stay with friends or family.”

“Don’t got none.”

“What, sweetheart?” Mr. Matt asked.

“I don’t got friends or family. ‘s’just Daddy an’ me.”

“You have friends,” he gently corrected. “Emily and I like you lots; she was really excited when she heard that you were going to come over today. And you can stay here for as long as you want, Ben.”

“What if Daddy won’t go talk to a therapist?”

“Then we’ll figure something out,” he told me. “You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you want, even if it’s a really really really long time, but if you decide you want to leave, then we’ll help you.”

“I think I just wanna go home with Daddy,” I tried.

Mr. Matt shook his head then, “I know, sweetheart, but I can’t let you do that. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Matt,” Aunt Charlotte said, giving him a look. “Ben, if you want to go home, then you can do that. We’ll forget this whole thing, and we won’t have you sign the papers. It’s up to you. We all want to help so that you’re safe, but it’s your choice.”

“I wanna just go home,” I told them. Mr. Matt looked like he wanted to argue, but he just closed his eyes.

“Alright then, sweetheart,” he managed to say, sounding upset. “I want you to know something though. Are you listening?”

I nodded, and he continued, “You can always come here. If something happens, if you’re scared of Daddy, or he hurts you, or you want to leave, or you just need a safe place to rest or cuddle, you can come here to our house, and you are always always welcome.”

I smiled, “Thank you.” I knew he wanted me to sign the papers, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to be a guest in someone’s house. I wanted to be someone’s little boy.

“Alright, I think someone needs to take a little snooze,” Mr. Matt narrated quietly, standing up and putting me back in the crib. I didn’t object, exhausted from all of the stress. Snuggling down into the soft pillow, I let myself be covered up with a blanket before drifting off to sleep.

Matt’s POV

Ben was hardly covered up before he curled himself into a little ball and was asleep. His thumb drifted to his mouth, and I let myself run my fingers through his messy curls before leaving the nursery with Charlotte.

“I don’t understand why I can’t just tell him,” I argued. “He doesn’t know how to make choices about being safe, Charlotte. He can’t do it.”

“And it’s making you go into Daddy Mode. I get it, Matt. But you can’t force him to stay,” she whispered furiously as we made our way downstairs. 

Sarah was sitting in the living room with the girls, the three of them talking quietly, but Emily was up like a shot the moment she saw me, across the floor and hanging off of me.

“Daddy? Is Ben going to stay here now?”

“We’ll talk about it in a little bit, baby,” I told her, trying to smile.

She wasn’t fooled, and she let go, putting her hands on her hips and giving me a glare. “You said we were going to help. Sending him back to that man is not going to help. You promised.”

Charlotte walked over to Lucy, holding out her hand, “Come on, Lucy Lou. Let’s go home.”

Sarah walked with them to the door, and Charlotte turned at the last moment, “Matt? I’ll write up the affidavit anyway, and I’ll date it. I’ll make sure to do one for both of you as well, and you can sign them. That way, if Ben changes his mind...”

“I’ll print the photos,” Sarah promised, before leaving.

“You promised,” Emily repeated, and I could tell that she was trying very hard to not stomp her foot.

“Em,” I said helplessly, not knowing what to tell her. I reached out, but she jerked away.

“No,” she shrieked, not letting me touch her arm. “You don’t touch me! You’re just gonna send him back to Mr. David, and he’s going to hurt him again and again and again. Don’t you even care?”

She was getting herself worked up, and I made sure to catch her on my next grab, pulling her up close to me and hugging her so she couldn’t lash out.

“Em, I want to help him, but I can’t. He won’t stay with us; he wants to go home,” I spoke quietly, hoping she’d mirror my voice.

She wasn’t having it, “NO! You tell him he has to!”

“Emily! Stop it, baby; you’re going to hurt yourself,” I begged as she thrashed in my arms. I managed to get her to start walking to the couch, although she fought me every step. Sitting, I pulled her down beside me. “I want to help him, but I can’t make him stay, baby.”

She wouldn’t look at me, glaring fiercely into space as she growled, “Let me go.”

“Are you going to be safe?”

“Yes.”

I released her arms, unsurprised when she was up and off the couch, getting far away from me as quickly as she could. She crossed her arms over her chest, telling me, “I’m going to the playroom, and I don’t wanna see you.”

As much as I wanted to tell her no, I nodded, “Alright. You need to stay in the house please.”

She didn’t respond to that, going off to the playroom. I knew what she’d do. There was a deep window seat in the room, and she’d insisted on hanging heavy drapes in it. When she was having trouble handling things, she’d climb in there, shutting out the world. Especially me.

I was not invited, as much as I wanted to be, and I tried to respect that. Going into the kitchen, I threw together the muffin recipe we were going to use, figuring that Ben would wake up hungry. The methodical work gave me time to think, although the scent of the baking didn’t tempt Em out.

There wasn’t anything I could do about that. In the beginning, I’d tried to force her to talk when she wasn’t ready, and it was bad. I knew she’d safeword, and then we’d have to deal with that. 

I’d be better off checking on Ben, who had to be close to waking up. Despite not knowing if he used bottles, I filled one with ice water, figuring that it would give me an excuse to cuddle him. Even if Charlotte was right, and I couldn’t force him to stay, I could still make sure that he got as much attention as he would let me give.

The lack of noise emanating from the nursery had made me think that Ben was still asleep, but I found him lying still in the crib, eyes open, watching the door.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I forced myself to smile. “Why didn’t you call for me?”

It was the wrong thing to ask, and he looked away, explaining, “You said snooze.”

“I did,” I agreed, letting the side of the crib down and reaching in to pick him up. “But I figured that you’d call for me. I should have told you that. Next time you’re here, if I put you down for a nap, I just need you to shout when you’re ready to get up. No climbing over the crib rail though; I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself.”

“I know that,” Ben explained. “Stay where you’re put. Daddy says.”

I tried to smile at that, wanting to praise the fact that he was talking, but the idea of agreeing with anything David had told him made me feel nauseated. 

“Let’s try a little water, okay?” I asked instead, sitting back down in the rocking chair.

It was obvious that he wasn’t used to the bottle from the way it took him a minute to get the hang of it, but he didn’t give up easily. 

I let him drink in silence until the bottle was half gone, tugging it away to ask, “Do you need a break?”

“Thank you,” he replied, letting himself nuzzle against me.

“Ben,” I started, knowing that Charlotte wouldn’t approve, “can we talk about what happens at your house?”

A guarded expression came over his face, but he slowly nodded, saying, “But you don’t tell Daddy I told? I know you gotta if he asks, but-”

“I’m not going to tell Daddy about anything you don’t want me to,” I reassured. “And I don’t have to tell him anything, even if he asks.”

“That’s lying.”

“Maybe, but sometimes, it’s okay to lie.”

Ben looked doubtful at that, and I explained, “If I told Daddy, I’m betting that you’d get into trouble at home. Am I right?”

He nodded, and I said, “Well, I don’t want you getting into trouble for doing something that is a very good thing to do. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s good to tell?”

I hugged him then, nodding, “It’s absolutely good to tell. The only kind of secrets people should keep are the kind that make them feel good inside. Like, if you had a surprise for Daddy, that’s a good secret.”

“Daddy says it’s nobody’s business,” he told me shyly.

“Well, he’s wrong,” I explained. “if you want to keep things private, that’s different, but there shouldn’t be anything happening to you that you couldn’t tell a safe grown up. If someone asks you to keep a secret like that, that’s a bad secret, and the person asking you wants you to do something wrong.”

His face was wrinkled with confusion, but he nodded, taking a breath, “When ‘m bad, Daddy hurts me. It’s to make me learn though. Because he wants me to be a good boy for him.”

“You’re already a good boy,” I corrected. “You’ve been very brave for me today, and you listened when I asked you to do stuff. You’re not ever bad; you might make a bad choice, but you’re always good.”

“I’m bad,” he disagreed.

“No,” I told him. “You are such a good boy.”

Ben’s POV

Mr. Matt kept saying that, but his face was sad. Slowly, I reached a hand up to touch his cheek, ready to pull it away if he got mad.

“I make you sad,” I told him, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat.

He caught my hand easily, pressing a kiss to my palm, “You make me very happy,” he disagreed. “You’re very sweet and thoughtful, and you try to do what grown ups tell you even if it’s hard. What your Daddy did makes me sad because I don’t like the idea of someone hurting you. Daddy is making a bad choice when he does that.”

Mr. Matt was very nice, but he didn’t know what he was talking about. “May I have some more water please?” I asked, wanting to cuddle but not wanting to talk about this anymore.

He didn’t say anything to that, just smiling at me before he lifted the bottle back to my lips. Rocking quietly, we sat together until the water was all gone. I didn’t want to say anything when that happened, worried that Mr. Matt would make me stand up. I liked cuddling, and I really just wanted to sit here. Emily was dumb if she didn’t realize this was the best thing ever, way better than playing with LEGOS. For a minute, I let myself wish that Mr. Matt was my daddy, but I pushed that thought away quickly.

We stayed together rocking until his cell phone rang. I could tell it was my Daddy because of the way he answered it and the look on his face, and I started to feel sick to my stomach, even as Mr. Matt smiled at me.

“Well, sweetheart, Daddy said he’s just about done, and he’ll be here in twenty minutes. Do you want a snack?”

“No thank you,” I mumbled, reminding myself that I wanted to go home.

“Why don’t we go and wait downstairs?” he suggested, standing up. I thought he was going to put me down, but he carried me down the stairs, and then made me sit next to him on the couch.

“Em,” he called, “Ben’s Daddy is coming here soon, if you’re going to say bye to him.”

I didn’t know where she was, but she didn’t come out when he yelled for her, so I tried to make myself relax and enjoy my time.

Mr. Matt wasn’t going to be quiet though, “Ben, are you sure that you want to go home?”

I nodded stubbornly. Nobody had ever wanted me before, and even if Daddy wasn’t perfect, he still wanted me. “My daddy loves me,” I whispered. 

“Do you remember what I told you?” he asked, “You are always allowed to come here. If your daddy hurts you again, I want you to come here. I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“You should stay,” I heard a small voice from the doorway, where Emily had appeared.

“Daddy loves me,” I repeated.

“Nobody’s saying he doesn’t,” Matt told me.

Emily objected to that, “I am. Not supposed to hurt people, Ben. Your daddy is not nice, and you should stay here. I can share my daddy with you.”

I didn’t want that, and I shook my head. Before Emily could continue, Matt said, “Then you can go home, sweetheart, and you’ll come back whenever you want. Do you know my cell phone number?”

“Daddy has it.”

Mr. Matt nodded, saying, “I want you to have it though, sweetheart. I want you to memorize it so I know that you can always find me if you need to. You won’t ever be interrupting anything more important.”

We went over his phone number a few times, until he was satisfied that I knew it by heart. That was when I heard Daddy’s car door slam, and I reluctantly forced myself to stand up. I was going home. That was what I wanted.


End file.
